Taking a Ride with My Best Friend
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: Jack fancies taking a drive and wants some company along the way.


"Hey, Ianto. Got anything on for tomorrow?"

Ianto shrugged. "Picking up the dry cleaning, dusting, hoovering, running down a rogue Weevil… usual day off. Something in your tone suggests you've got other ideas, though."

"So, is your stuff like Hour 1, or an all-day agenda?" Jack asked.

"Depends on the Weevil," Ianto smirked.

"Supposing we leave the Weevil out of it."

"Sans Weevil," Ianto considered, "yeah, wouldn't be more than half the morning. Why, exactly?"

Jack shrugged casually. "I was just thinking of taking a drive. Supposed to be a nice day."

"A drive to where?" Ianto asked, more than a little suspicious. He knew Jack's nonchalance too well not to be. And then there was Jack's 'driving', so-called. Ianto often supposed that the 51st century's only conception of automobiles was an ancient film clip of the dodgems at Brighton. That was his only explanation.

"Honestly, nowhere. I had no destination or route in mind. Just felt like getting out of the city. I don't know how long it's been since I just went for a real drive – someplace without red lights and zebra crossings or aliens or the government chasing me."

Ianto looked at Jack for a long moment and decided this was something Jack _needed_. "Just promise you'll drive sensibly enough not to hit any sheep or ducks?"

Jack grinned back. "What about cyclists?"

"They're fair game."

"Deal."

* * *

The next morning, Ianto was beginning to wonder if the invasion of Normandy required quite as much planning as an outing with Jack Harkness. Considering that Jack claimed to have been in Dunkirk at the time, Ianto presumed it did not. Since he had no idea where they'd end up, Ianto thought it best to bring along lunch. And coffee. A lot of coffee. Except that most of the coffee wouldn't stay hot. There was that large, portable "hot plate" in the boot of the SUV, but that was primarily used for keeping injured or ill aliens comfortable until they could be patched up.

And then there was the fact that Jack wanted to take his car and leave the SUV. His car. His _sports_ car. Ianto silently reminded himself that he was doing it for Jack and forced down his suggestion that they take his perfectly sensible Audi. In order to soothe himself, Ianto commandeered the SUV keys and attached to them with a cable tie a laminated note detailing some of the things not to be done with the SUV in their absence, including but not limited to:

leaving takeaway containers of any sort in;

leaving half-full mugs of coffee in;

leaving crisp or other comestible packets or wrappers in;

eating anything sticky and/or greasy in;

spilling anything in or on;

crashing, scraping, scratching, or denting;

parking outdoors in the event of a hail storm;

avoidable instances of alien explosion in or near;

forgetting open containers of dried shrimp in;

employing duct tape for any interior or exterior attachment when gaffer tape is readily available in SUV at all times;

any and all experiments involving the phrase, "takes the chrome off a bumper."

The note attached to his own set of keys read simply:

ONLY TO BE USED IN MOST EXTREME, WORLD-END-IMMENENT CIRCUMSTANCES

After depositing both sets of keys with Tosh, Ianto headed up to Jack's office with lunch and coffee packed.

"Do you think I ought to put together an overnight bag, just in case we end up stuck out there?" Ianto asked.

Jack gave him a look. "I think you should change out of that gorgeous suit into something more appropriate for a day off and meet me in the car park in…," Jack checked his watch, "7 and a half minutes. And, incidentally, if 'stuck out there' means you can't stand another hour in the car without getting me onto my back in some quaint little hotel in nowhere… I _really_ won't protest."

"You won't be protesting because I won't be suggesting it."

Jack pouted.

"Stop that and take this to the car," Ianto instructed, handing Jack the picnic hamper. "I'll change and meet you out there in… 5 minutes 50."

"Yes, sir," Jack replied, offering a smart salute and marching quickly out of his office.

Ianto shook his head affectionately and headed down to Jack's bunker to hang up his suit and switch to jeans. On his way out, Ianto surreptitiously unplugged the coffee maker. That'd keep 'em guessing, he smirked to himself, sneaking out the back door.

"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about," Jack grinned, leaning against his car. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as necessary for an afternoon drive, I reckon."

Jack's grin softened and he reached for Ianto's hand. "It'll be nice, I promise. Was thinking we could just head out along the coast, maybe avoid the whole inland, countryside thing."

"That sounds… judicious," Ianto agreed, getting into the passenger side and putting on his typically neglected sunglasses.

"Maybe head out the M4, get that out of my system, then slow it down and head toward Pembroke? Find a nice place for dinner – I seem to remember a nice place somewhere near the castle over there - and then just enjoy the drive back."

"Alright," Ianto said, trying not to brace himself for the M4. Deep down he knew Jack wouldn't be reckless, not with more than his own life involved, anyway.

Jack again reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks for coming along, nice to have a companion for a drive."

"You're welcome," Ianto smiled.

* * *

Ianto had to admit that Jack's driving on the M4 wasn't nearly as white-knuckle-inducing when there wasn't an extraterrestrial menace involved. It seemed that the adrenaline had a relaxing effect on Jack, instead of a toughening one, and a relaxed Jack was a thing to behold.

They spent a couple hours touring around Pembroke and the coastal path, doing nothing in particular, chatting about nothing in particular. Something about Jack seemed entirely different, sat on grassy cliff, looking out over the water. It was a bit like watching him standing at the edge of a rooftop, only without the brooding. Ianto decided he quite liked it.

Eventually, Jack sighed as if savouring something sublime. "Dinner, Mr. Jones?" he said, turning to Ianto.

"I'm fairly sure I could murder some chips right now," Ianto nodded.

That night, happily fed and unperturbed, Ianto was perfectly content to sit back and let Jack drive them back to Cardiff. Before they'd even got to the roundabout near Carmarthen, Ianto had nodded off and slept nearly Culverhouse Cross.

Jack didn't mind in the least, just holding Ianto's hand along the way was perfect beyond words to him.


End file.
